


Shovel Talk

by TheJoysOfAMultishipper (Amemah)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asexual Natasha Romanova, Friendly Kidnapping, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:06:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemah/pseuds/TheJoysOfAMultishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shovel ta-“ Darcy was squeaking. Fuck this day and everything it stands for. “Are we dating? Are we dating, and I wasn’t informed? Because I feel like I should be informed of that,” Darcy reached for the bowl of egg whites and passed it over to Nat where she was perched on the counter. Darcy had seen her arms in action, okay. She was never whisking meringue again if she could help it. </p><p>"No." Nat said. "You'd know if we were dating."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shovel Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This one fits in the series, but it can also be read as a standalone. 
> 
> Basically, i just wanted #BirdBros, and Darcy in a room together. Then Sharon Carter got involved because yes please and now we have this. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, please! I love reading your comments!  
> Hugs <3
> 
> \---
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr! Come say hi!](http://thejoysofamultishipper.tumblr.com/)

"Oh, just so you know, there’s a possibility you’re getting kidnapped next week.”  
“What.”  
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s not an _actual_ kidnapping,”  
“Yeah, no. You’re going to explain those last two sentences, because there was something about _kidnapping_ and also; apparently you already _know_?”

So here’s the thing. Darcy gets that Natasha has a weird job. Okay, she _gets_ it. She gets that her job is so weird that on Nat’s fourth visit to the diner, Darcy had been informed that if they were to continue this friendship, Darcy had to begin wearing a panic-button at all times. There was also something about security-details and surveillance, but she’d “forgotten” that conversation. But this? _This_ was a whole new level of weird. Nat though, she just rolled her eyes and took a bite of her chocolate chip caramel cookie. There may have been moans that belonged in porn.

“Relax,” She had the nerve to huff. “It’s just Clint, he said something about ‘shovel talk’ and ‘just need to make sure she isn’t drugging you, Nat. You’re smiling and it’s weird’.”

“ _Shovel ta_ -“ Darcy was squeaking. Fuck this day and everything it stands for. “Are we dating? Are we dating, and I wasn’t informed? Because I feel like I should be informed of that,” Darcy reached for the bowl of egg whites and passed it over to Nat where she was perched on the counter. Darcy had seen her arms in action, okay. She was never whisking meringue again if she could help it.

“You’d know if we were dating,” Nat added sugar to the mix, folding it in carefully.  
“Because of the mutual orgasms?” Darcy asked, piping out some macaroons on her tray, tapping the tray on the counter when she was finished.  
“No, I’m asexual. Mutual orgasms aren’t really my thing.” Nat answered, pouring the raspberries into the meringue. Darcy was pretty sure this was a monumental part in their friendship; that Natasha would trust her with this information.

She was also pretty sure Nat didn’t want her to make a big deal out of it, and frankly, neither did Darcy – because while she didn’t want to contribute to any erasure of Nat’s identity, this wasn’t really a _thing_. It was just another part of Nat.

“Sorry for assuming,” Darcy said easily, “Because of the mutual handholding, then?” She amended.  
“Because of the mutual handholding.” Nat nodded decisively.

So you’d think Darcy was prepared when Hawkeye appeared in front of her and promptly dragged her into a car. But because of asshole-ish dates, the breaking of promises regarding tequila and a thesis that won’t write itself – no matter how hard she begged, ugh –, she was as far from prepared as you could be.

So here she was, lying in a diner uniform with a skirt _way_ too short and heels that would break even at the _sight_ of asphalt, on the floor of a van that probably didn’t technically exist, staring at Hawkeye and Falcon.

“Fuck. My life. _So_. Hard.” She punctuated each word with a pathetic kick to Hawkeyes stomach, lips pursing at his smile. She was too angry to appreciate his biceps – and Darcy felt that was the real shame here.

“You and me both, ma’am,” Falcon – _Falcon_ – sighed; looking like a man who had given up on sanity.

“Oh shut up, look at your cheekbones. The fuck do you have to complain about?” Darcy muttered, trashing on the floor in an effort to get up, and probably flashing two of the nations heroes in the process. She gave up after about fifteen seconds, deciding not to let her abdominal muscles go though any more torture than strictly necessary. “Oh God, I need to start exercising,”

“Thought you didn’t want to do that because you’d loose you boobs?” Hawkeye asked, and she could just _hear_ the tilt of his head.  
“I just offered a woman some chocolate tart! What did I do to deserve this?” Darcy muttered to no one in particular.

“Same.” The Falcon offered a sympathetic smile. Darcy wasn’t inclined to believe him, as he’d just aided Hawkeye in her kidnapping. “I was just out on my morning run and Captain look-at-my-stamina America comes running by, and all of the sudden I’m kidnapping waitresses.”

Falcon helped her into one of the seats as he spoke. He didn’t try to right her skirt though, and Darcy was thankful. It’d be shame to leave him twitching in an alley.

“Dude, you’re totally undermining my position here!” Hawkeye cried, which was when Darcy remembered that there were important questions to ask.  
“Who’s driving?”

“Agent 13,” Falcon answered. “None of your business,” Hawkeye said at the same time.  
“I don’t know if this is part of your good-superspy/bad superspy-routine, but I don’t really give a shit; I like Falcon the best.”

“You’re only saying that because I was the one who kidnapped you,” Hawkeye sniffed, and Falcon rolled his eyes. He managed to look very majestic while doing it though, something Darcy found very impressive and also oddly charming?

“And that _isn’t_ a valid reason?” He muttered, giving her half a smile when Darcy murmured “Amen.” 

“What’s your endgame here?” Hawkeye asked suddenly, looking like the personification of suspicion. Nat wasn’t a stranger to switching between moods in the blink of an eye, but it was still really weird to watch. “Have something to slam back into your sister’s face when she’s being obnoxious?”

“Okay, one: creepy.” Darcy said wide-eyed, before straightening her back, reminding Clint of a pissed off Pixie. Then again, you _don’t fuck with Pixies_. “Two: I am really sorry your lives have been so shit that the first sign of friendship and care are immediately considered a threat or a manipulation, but _how dare you_ accuse me of doing that! I happen to genuinely care about Nat, and obviously, some part of her cares about me too – considering her other half basically kidnapped me. And don’t you think Nat would have sniffed me out in three seconds _flat_ if I was just some groupie desperate to be fingered by the Black fucking Widow?”

Falcon choked. Hawkeye grinned.

“All I did was show her some humanity,” Darcy continued, holding eye contact with Hawkeye. “And I ended up with a really good friend. You don't have anything to worry about; I promise I won't steal Nat from your playdates or secret missions.”

“Okay.” He said, standing up to remove the binding around her wrists and ankles. There wasn’t even a mark left, and to be honest – if it wasn’t for he inability to move, she wouldn’t have felt them. “You’re good. I accept your friendship with Nat.”

“Oh, yay!” Darcy cheered sarcastically. “Now that the big strong man approves of my actions, I can finally feel good about myself!”

Agent 13 snorted from where she was sat in the driver seat, and Hawkeye looked appropriately chastised. Falcon gave her a fistbump. The day was looking better by the minute.

“Point taken,” Hawkeye said. “I just needed to be sure.”  
“I get it, I guess,” Darcy shrugged. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

“Oh, that!” Hawkeye grinned. “The Hulk really likes your Oreo cheesecake, and he refuses to let Banner come out and play until he’s had some. Nat said they’re usually sold out by ten, so she had us come pick you up.”

“So this isn’t actually a kidnapping then?” Darcy asked after three seconds of wrapping her head around the direction her life had taken. “I’m just making cheesecake for the Hulk, and you figured you’d take the shovel talk at the same time?”

“Two birds in one stone, I think he said,” Agent 13 shouted from the front. “And by the way, if _you_ want to throw stones at either of them afterwards, I won’t stop you.”

“Yeah, that seems fair enough,” Falcon agreed reluctantly. “Just don’t hit my face. Like you said, these cheekbones are perfection.”

“I’m not going to throw stones at you,” Darcy huffed. “I’ll just tell Nat how you got my uniform dirty and let her deal with the messy details of my payback.”

“I can see why Nat likes you.” Hawkeye said, grinning again as he knew he wouldn’t be stoned in the near future. “You can call me Clint, if you want.”

“I think this is what they call Stockholm Syndrome,” Darcy sighed. “Granted, it’s a mild version of it, but still.”

“It’s not too late to throw stones at them,” Agent 13 said helpfully. “I could help if you want!”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://thejoysofamultishipper.tumblr.com/)


End file.
